Cora
by CloverHeart609
Summary: First created in a lab 14 years ago, Project Cora is just now opening her eyes. Originally made to be the next Captain America, her use stopped short when the Avengers came about and became the Earth's heroes. Now SHIELD wants Cora become a part of the group- only neither of the them want that. Will they be able to pull themselves together in time, or will they crash and burn?
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I only own Cora Grey, Carrie Jones, and Project Cora. Everything else belongs to the respective owners.**

Nick Fury stood tall, watching the glass in front of him. He was currently in the lowest level of the Panther Base; a top secret government base 10 miles under the Amazon Rainforest. According to the files in D.C. this place didn't exist, and was only excess able by taking a submarine through a tunnel the place had connected to the Atlantic. It was SHIELD's massive lab for the most part.

The creature Nick now looked at was one of the most human things SHIELD had created. It looked human. It had human DNA, and human blood. But it was not human. It could never be a human, not with genes created in a lab and an immune system that would never allow it to fall ill. It was a man-made mutant. And SHIELD was proud of it.

The being, known as Project Cora, had been created 14 years ago when SHIELD decided that the world needed a new Captain America; a new hero. But they hadn't expected for a new group to surface and become Earth's heroes. But even then they continued with the project.

Fury found it a bit inhumane, but for once he kept his opinion to himself. The Council had been on edge for the past few months, as the project would be coming to a close soon, and any mishaps or sharp remarks would get him kicked easily. Even though Fury would be in charge of the being once she was awoken, the Council would remove Fury from SHIELD in a heartbeat if he pushed them too much. This was not his place to speak.

The creature Panther Base had created was a female, and had been created 14 years ago, making her 14. Chin-length brown hair was cut close to her face and her pale skin bore no flaws. She had a thin, but muscular body from the special food that had been designed for her sole usage. Her eyes had never been opened, but Nick had been told they were gray.

But soon the gray eyes of Project Cora would open.


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I only own Cora Grey, Carrie Jones, and Project Cora. Everything else belongs to the respective owners.**

* * *

_1 year later_

Have you ever been to the mountains? High up? So high that some of the trees are a weird, darker shade of green and you become freezing cold, no matter what the weather below is like? Have you looked down from there? It's quite the view, the rolling mountains that turn lighter shades of blue and disappear into the distance. The fog you see surrounding the mountains. All the trees. I live up there. Okay, maybe not that far up, but it's easy to access from my house. You just climb the trail.

Oh, I forgot to introduce myself, sorry. My name is Cora, Cora Jillian Grey, the 15 year-old daughter of Someone and Somebody. I live high up on Brevard Mountain, 20 miles up from the actual town of Brevard, with my Caretaker Carrie Jones. I don't attend any kind of school (Carrie says I already have the intelligence of a high school AP graduate, and that attending a school would just be a waste of my time) and I spend my days hiking around, passing time in town, and thinking. It's really all that I can do, as I live an odd life.

You see, I woke up about a year ago knowing everything about everything, except for my past. Carrie was there when it happened, she explained a few basic things to me. She managed not to say anything about my before, and the few times that I've asked she would always just ruffle my hair and continue on without a word. She won't even tell me about my parents, but I never pester her about it.

I was currently sitting on top of the mountain, on that cold and eerie top level, just watching the landscape like I did every day. But little did I know, this would be one of my last days doing this; peacefully sitting atop Brevard Mountain, totally at ease. Totally normal.

I just sat there, wearing my usual outfit of jeans, a t-shirt, worn boots and my light blue fleece jacket. My arms were tightly wrapped around me, since it was late fall it was freezing, even with the sun shining above, and I was perfectly content to staring out at the landscape sprawled out before me.

_"Come in, Little Bird."_ Carrie's voice came out of the walkie-talkie I always carried up here with me. It punctured a hole into my thoughts and I pulled myself back to reality. _"This is Big Bird, come in."_

"I read you." I reported as I held the walkie-talkie close to my mouth. I stood up and brushed the dirt off of me and tucked a loose blonde strand behind my ear.

_"It's 1:30, so if we're going to make the trip today I'd suggest that you start heading get back now." _That's right! Today was Wednesday, the day we made our weekly trip into town. I loved those trips, mostly because it was my only chance to see someone who wasn't Carrie or the occasional lost tourist.

"I'm heading back now." And so I began to descent the 20-minute trail back home. I walked silently down the almost vertical trail and arrived just as she was starting up the car. I hopped in and we were off to Brevard.

-Page Break-

Out of the 168 hours there were in a week, I spent about 5 of them in Brevard, North Carolina. Or in other words, I spent 5 hours every week around other people. All the more reason to love Brevard.

Don't get me wrong, Carrie is incredibly nice and I love her to death, but it gets boring living in the middle of nowhere with no one to talk to but my caretaker and the dog.

We made our usual rounds; Wal-Mart, Fetch (a little pet store where we bought Orwell's food), the print shop (I always liked to stop there to talk to old Mrs. MacLaurn), the library, and finally the post office. It went like most trips went, but this time there was something different in the mail. It was a black envelope that (according to the mailman) had been there since last Friday. We didn't usually get any mail at all, and when we did it was spam or a letter from one of my Carrie's friends. So a black envelope (without a return address, I might add) was very odd.

-Page Break-

After I finished dinner I asked her about it.

"What was the black letter about?" She stopped chewing immediately and froze, her fork halfway back to the plate. She stared at the plate like it was suddenly incredibly fascinating. "Well?"

Slowly she swallowed the rest of her food and looked up at me. The intensity in her green eyes said that whatever she was about to tell me, neither of us would like it. She took a deep breath and began to speak.

"Nothing."

-Page Break-

Later that night, after Carrie had disappeared to her room, I came to the kitchen to make myself some tea. Not only was it did I need a cup to help me sleep, but Carrie kept the entire house a cold temperature and it was the best thing to warm me up. While the water was brewing, I couldn't help but notice the black envelope sitting on the counter not 2 feet away from me. My common sense said no, but my curiosity screamed yes.

Silently I picked up the envelope, snatched the letter out, and placed the envelope back in its previous spot. It was plain printer paper and had a simple, blank black shield as its header. There was a single sentence typed on it.

_'Peter Pan needs to leave Neverland.'_

…What the hell?

"Cora!" Carrie said from the doorway. Crap.

"Uh, sorry Carrie." I said, sheepishly refolding the letter and placing it on top of its envelope. "Would it help if I said I didn't understand it?"

"Not really, it's a code, it's suppose to leave you clueless about the actual message." She said with a deep scowl, her arms crossed. "But it doesn't matter now if you understand it or not. Sit down." She said, pulling out a stool from the bar and sitting down swiftly. I didn't question the command and sat down on the stool next to her's.

"That letter was sent from a man, my boss actually," Boss? Since when did she have a boss? She always told me she had been able to retire at an early age because of the large amount of money her father had left her in his will. She seemed to struggle for a few minutes, trying to find the proper words. "He wants us to go with him to a place, a ship, in the Atlantic."

I was utterly confused. "A. Why? B. You seriously got all that out of a six word sentence? And C. since when do you have a boss?"

Carrie sighed and, to my surprise, smiled. "You're too smart for me Cora." She leaned in and lowed her voice to a whisper. "A. I can't explain that at the moment, B. The message was an instruction telling me to contact my boss, and C. I've always had a boss. Now, tomorrow morning a helicopter is coming to pick us up to take us to this ship and you need to pack. Bring only what you need, but remember; we're not coming back here." _What?_ Out of all the words she had said, those had made the least amount of sense. 'We're not coming back here'? Why weren't we coming back, 'here' is home, the only home I'd ever known!

"What do you mean we're not coming back? This is our home, of course we're coming back!"

"No. This is not our home, and we are not coming back." She leaned over and looked me directly in the eye. "A lot of things are about to change, Cora. A_ lot_ of things. I just need you to trust me on this."

That was asking a lot, even for my closest (and only) friend. It was hard to trust someone when they were keeping something from you, but what other choice did I have?

I slowly nodded and the 28 year old smiled at me. "Good. Now I suggest you start packing. And remember, pack lightly." And with that she got up, kissed my forehead and left, leaving me stunned.

We were leaving everything tomorrow. And there was nothing I could do about it.


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I only own Cora Grey, Carrie Jones/Winters, and Project Cora. Everything else belongs to the respective owners.**

* * *

The next morning (after making sure I had every that I needed packed) I hiked up to the eerie level wearing yesterday's clothes. I stared out like I had every day before. But this time it was different. This was the last time I would be standing here, looking out like this. Alone with no one but my thoughts.

I took a deep breath of the cool, mountain air and then I listened. I listened for a good while, before I finally heard the sound I'd been dreading: the distant sound of helicopter blades. I'd only heard them once before; when Carrie and I had found a lost and hurt hiker in the woods. A helicopter had come to take him to a hospital.

And now a helicopter was coming for me.

When I saw it I was a bit surprised by the size. It had double blades on the top, unlike the one I had seen rescue the hiker, and it was twice the size. It had a logo on the side that looked like an eagle, though I didn't recognize it other than that.

I watched as it got closer and closer, then it started to ascend.

Carrie must have noticed it, because she spoke to me through the walkie-talkie for the first time that morning. "Little Bird-"

I was quick to cut her off. I didn't want to hear her stupid nicknames; in fact I didn't want to hear her speak at all. "I'm on my way."

What if I ran right now? What if instead of returning home, I just ran into the forest and climbed higher and higher up until there was nothing left to climb? Would they find me? Would they care?

But I'm smart enough to know that I wouldn't last very long out there, since I had no food and there was minimal water higher up. So with one last glance at the beautiful view before me, I headed back to the house.

The helicopter landed in the backyard as soon as I stepped out of the woods. Carrie was standing on the back porch with our luggage and Orwell's dog cage. What was really weird was the outfit she was wearing: a navy blue cat suit and sleek black boots. Her hair was pinned up in a tight bun.

She's never wore anything like that, at least not that I remember. She usually dressed like me: t-shirts, jeans and heavily worn boots. Her hair is only up when she's doing some kind of work, and then it's only a low ponytail.

I ran over and stood next to her as the helicopter doors opened and a black man stepped out. He was dressed entirely in black and had an eye-patch over his right eye. After him multiple other people jumped out of the helicopter and they all ran across the yard in different directions. They're all holding guns as they disappear inside the house and the surrounding forest. All the while eye-patch makes his way over to us.

By the time all the other people dressed in black came out of the woods and the house and declared 'The area is secure' the man is finally walking up the porch steps. Some of them get back in their ship, and the rest stand guard.

"Director Fury." Carrie said as she stepped forward to greet the man.

"Agent Winters." He acknowledged back. His one eye is set on me and it's creeping me out.

Wait a second- did he just call Carrie 'Agent Winters'? Her last name has never been Winters, it's _Jones_, and she's definitely not an agent of any sorts. Surely he can't be talking to her. But who else is there to talk to? And honestly, with everything else going on right now, the fact that she might be an agent of sorts hardly fazes me.

"Here is the information you'll need." Carrie – 'or Agent Winters', whatever her name is – said as she handed him a stack of what looked to be files. I think I also saw her journal in the stack.

Before 'Director Fury' could respond I interjected. "Is anyone going to tell me what's going on soon?" They both look in my direction with looks of annoyance. I don't what happened to Carrie while I was on top of the mountain, but now she looks more… professional. Secretive. Out of character.

"Cora," Fury said in a stern voice. How does he know my name? "I am Director Nick Fury. I'm sure you remember waking with no memory, about a year ago?"

"Well, yeah."

"Good." He said, returning to 'Agent Winters'. "Cora, you will be fully informed of the situation when we return to base. Agents Clark and Ruezinsky will bring your bags to the helicopter." The Agents pick up our bags the instant he says the words. "Come with me please."

"Wait, can I just," I tried to think of an excuse. "Look around the house one last time?"

Fury's eye narrowed. "Be quick." He said in a sharp tone. So I rushed back inside, straight to where I needed to go.

I ran into the living room and searched the room with my eyes. I spotted it on a shelf and quickly snatched it. It was a photo, taken a year ago after I first woke up. It was of Carrie and I sitting on the steps of our front porch, with Orwell curled around our feet.

I quickly took the picture out of the frame, folded it up and put it in my pocket.

* * *

I honestly thought that the helicopter landing in the backyard was going to be the weirdest thing that happened today. God was I wrong.

Turns out the 'ship' the helicopter was taking us to could fly. Oh, I'm sorry, _hover_ is the proper word. This giant ship, which had multiple other aircrafts parked on it, sprouted blades and flew (hovered, whatever) 2,000 feet in the air, at least. They called it a helicarrier.

I felt the helicarrier rumbling underneath me as soon as I stepped off the helicopter. There were multiple other people and ships scattered across the platform, but none of them really paid us any attention. Except for one, or at least I think so. I swore I saw a man perched near the very top of the lone building, intently staring at us. But I was probably wrong, as the building was far away, but still…

I noticed a tall woman with dark hair approaching us and drew my attention away from the man who may or may not be watching us.

"Agent Hill." Fury said from beside me.

"Director Fury, Agent Winters. I assume this is Project Cora?" I am a person, not a project, thank you.

"That's correct." 'Agent Winters' said as she walked forward to stand on the other side of me. I glanced over at her and saw that she was now wearing a badge that read 'Agent Carrie Winters.'. That was when it really sunk in, when it really became a possibility that she was actually Agent Winters, without quotations. That she was someone completely different than the person I had spent the last year with.

"You've definitely grown since I last saw you Cora." The woman said. I didn't remember her.

"Do I know you?" I asked carefully.

"No, you don't. But I know you." If that's not creepy sounding, then I don't know what is. "I'm Agent Maria Hill. Now let's go, we have a schedule to keep."

She turned and began walking towards the building. I was pushed from behind, so I followed her with everyone else. I took in every detail as we neared and entered the building. I was pushed into an elevator with Fury, Maria, and Carrie and it began heading down.

After what seemed like 10 minutes the elevator finally stopped and we got out. We walked down a long hallway to a door with an A printed on the window. In that room, I finally received some answers.

* * *

My name is Cora Jillian Grey. I am 15 years old. I am a mutant and I was created and grown in a lab. I am not an actual human. I am supposed to be able to control energy with my mind. I am supposed to be able to create and control things with the energy. But only a special kind of energy; I don't really understand the science behind it. I was originally created to be the next Captain America- but then they found him. Now they want me to join a team of fellow freaks. A team known as the Avengers. I'm not sure I want to.


	4. Chapter 3

**Anonymous Review Responses:**

**Guest: I'm glad you like it. Thank you for reviewing.**

**DISCLAIMER: ****I only own Cora Grey, Carrie Winters, and Project Cora. Everything else belongs to the respective owners.**

* * *

The alarm clock woke me up at 6:30 a.m. Monday morning. Today I was to begin my training, and this afternoon I had a meeting about my 'suit' and I would be meeting the Avengers. I still wasn't sure how I felt about being forced to work with them. On one hand, they had saved the world. On the other, they had saved the world. You understand what I mean?

I washed my face and dressed in the training clothes given to me. A gray tank top and black spandex capris; both featured the S.H.I.E.L.D. emblem. I was instructed to wear the running shoes and bring the Nike Studio wraps as well. Both were given to me as well, and both were black.

I tied my hair up on the way to the cafeteria. Once there I selected a Greek yogurt, hardboiled egg, and whole wheat toast. It was one of the preplanned meals I was now eating, as set up by my trainer. That's right, they put me on a diet.

After I ate I went straight to the training room, feeling somewhat deprived. When I arrived in the training lobby, Agent Yearly was waiting for me. Agent Yearly was to be my training coach, for both physical training and working on using my powers. Apparently they had agents trained especially for this.

The physical training was brutal. Rep after rep after rep. Weight lifting, running, kickboxing, and karate. It hurt like hell, but I managed to live through half an hour of it. Miraculously. There was a ten minute break, during which I almost feel asleep, and then power training began.

Even though I was still in pain from the physical training, we dived in head first. Yearly had been told everything about my powers and what I was supposed to do. She told me that the beginning would be the hardest, as I had to first be able to summon the energy in order to do anything with it.

And she was right, it was incredibly hard. Especially since there wasn't anything Yearly could do to help, other than encourage me. This had to be all me, I had to call and control the energies in the air.

For nearly fifteen minutes we both sat cross-legged on the floor, me with my eyes closed tightly and my right hand extended in front me. My palm faced the ceiling and I tried to concentrate on the energies that I had to believe were there. And then my hand began to feel warm.

I didn't notice it at first, I was concentrating too much on the air to take note of anything actually happening on my hand. But then it got hotter and slowly grasped my attention. I wanted to open my eyes to see if it looked like anything was happening, but I knew that I had to keep my mind on the airborne energies.

"Does it look like anything is happening?" I asked carefully. The warmness started to give my hand a fuzzy feeling.

"Yes, you're doing it!" Yearly said, sounding excited in her dry tone. "A ball of energy is forming, just as it should!"

I very carefully, very slowly opened my eyes. There was a small, golf ball sized sphere in my hands, hovering just above my palms. It glowed a very light blue and looked like it was spinning at a sluggish pace. I leaned in closer, trying to make out the details of the orb, but I lost my concentration and it vanished.

I lowered my hand, feeling disappointed and mystified at the same time. Year was grinning at me.

"Good job, Cora." She said as she patted my knee. "That was great for your first day. Now I'm sure you're tired, so we're going to stop here. Training starts at the same time tomorrow." And with that she stood up and left. I watched her leave, and when she ducked out the door I noticed a redhead watching through the window. She eyed me for a few moments, seemly not caring that I saw her, and swiftly walked away.

I went back to my room and took a nap.

* * *

The meeting with the designer of my suit had been confusing and very one-sided. I originally didn't understand why I needed a suit, and when I found out it wasn't the kind of suit I thought it would be I was even more confused. She was there to create for me a superhero kind of suit. Like what Captain America wore. _That_ kind of suit.

I let the conversation be one-sided; I didn't really want a suit and even if I did, I had no clue what it should look like! So I went along with the designer's suggestions and half an hour later my suit was drawn out on her tablet. It, like most clothing on this ship, would be a type of catsuit. It would be completely gray, the same shade as my eyes, and would have a circle of darker gray on the chest. Inside the circle would be a light blue 'C', the same color as the energy I had summoned. I would have a sidearm and pepper spray (my request). The SHIELD emblem would be stamped onto the side of each shoulder. That part was mandatory.

After that I was steered straight for conference room 7. I stopped in front of the door; suddenly I really didn't want to go in there and meet then. More than anything I wanted to turn around and go back to my quarters. But since there were two agents waiting for me to go in, I don't think it would be possible.

I pressed the button and the door slid open. There was a comfortable silence that immediately disappeared when they all looked up and saw me. They all sat around a semicircle table, except for the man I believed to be Tony Stark, who was pacing and reading something off his phone. I glanced at each of them, just long enough to match a face with a file, but not slow enough to read their expressions.

The man I recognized to be Steve Rogers, aka Captain America, was the first to stand and greet me. He smiled and politely held out his hand. "You must be Cora."

I plastered on a fake smile, shook his hand, and nodded.

"It's nice to meet you." He gestured to the other Avengers, all of whom were still seated. "Welcome to the team."

"Thanks." I said, quickly creating an awkward silence. Steve dropped my hand and Thor stood up from his seat.

"Look how small you are!" The demigod exclaimed, which was quickly followed by a cocky grin. This drew instant attention to our height difference. According to the file I was given, Thor was 6'6. I was a mere 5'4. There was more than a foot difference. "I am only kidding!" He said quickly, before holding out a massive hand. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance! I am Thor, son of Odin."

I decided I liked this guy; he seemed much friendlier than the rest of them. "You too." And I smiled an actual smile.

Next to shake my hand was Bruce Banner, aka the Hulk. He didn't stand up to greet me, but reached across the table. Stark paused but didn't look up at first. "Tony Stark, I'm sure you've heard of me. Owner of Stark Industries, blah, blah, blah." When he did look up at me, he looked a bit surprised.

He turned to his teammates. "How old is she again?"

"Fifteen." The only other female in the room, Agent Natasha Romanoff, answered.

"I'm right here and perfectly capable of answering questions." I said, annoyed that he had ignored me.

"You're _fifteen_?" Tony asked me.

"That would be correct."

"Why are they putting a _fifteen year-old_ on this team?" He once again looked to his teammates for answers.

"If it helps, I don't want to be here."

"Tony, calm down. She's receiving special training. SHIELD wouldn't do this if they didn't think she was capable." Steve said, annoyance obvious in his voice.

"I'm with Tony." Said the man at the end of the table. Since he was the only man who hadn't introduced himself, I was assuming he was Agent Clint Barton. "She's too young to be here, but the Director's not changing his mind."

Tony looked me up and down. "She's just a scrawny kid!"

"I'm not a kid." I said, taking offense. "Fifteen is not a kid. And I'm not… _that_ scrawny." To be fair I was _kind of_ scrawny.

After a moment of various people passing glances, Tony broke the silence and said "I'm talking to Eye-Patch." And then he left.

"Well isn't this a great first impression." Bruce said sarcastically. "Cora, the two people at the end who neglected to introduce themselves are Agents Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff." He pointed to them as he spoke. Romanoff nodded at me, while Barton leaned further back in his chair and ignored me.

"I figured," I said, still awkwardly standing beside the table. "I read the files."

"Good, good."

"Don't mind Stark." Steve spoke for the first time since Tony left. "He can… be a bit dramatic. It doesn't help that he's got an ego the size of Alaska."

"So I've heard." And thus began more awkward silence.


End file.
